Old Habits Die Hard

I've fallen into my old ways . . . ignoring my blog. Sorry about that. Whenever I take a weekend off i.e. physically leave my home and travel to other cities to sleep in cozy hotel rooms, it seems to take a week or two to get back up to speed. I don't know why.

Anyway, I never finished telling you about the great Freddy escape weekend, and since absolutely nothing happened this weekend except this I've got nothing better to talk about anyway.

Last Friday morning I got up early and went shopping at Regent Mall. Pretty much everyone else was going to Fred Cogswell's burial and memorial service. But I never knew Fred, so I made other plans. I went to Wal-Mart and picked up $50 worth of new underwear -- panties, socks, thongs, etc. I cannot stress how much in need of new underwear I was . . . there is stuff hanging out in my drawers that I bought in Toronto, lol. It used to be that I would get tons of that stuff for Christmas and birthdays, so I never had to buy anything hardly. Sadly, now it's all on me and I'm not very good at keeping on top of the situation. Especially when me and Nick are really the only ones who ever see my undies. Nick likes to chew my socks and steal my panties . . . it's an attention seeking thing. Anyway, I went shopping and then met Dorinda in the food court where we had coffee and conversation. Then we headed over to the liquor store and stocked up on wine for the weekend and then we drove around the campus trying to locate buildings we needed to be at later.

I was back in my room by 11:30 a.m. I showered, watched some t.v. and waited for Stacy to show up so I could get some food. I was still starving from the night before. She got in around 1:30 and we went to Keystone Kelly's because we had a coupon for 15% off. Later Claude told us the Keystone's in Fredericton is the absolute worse restaurant in town . . . but we didn't seem to notice, had a good lunch. Then Stacy had to go help a lady with her website and I went shopping at Winners bought some Christmas presents for the kids. Then we went downtown to Claude's apartment. It might be cool to live right downtown on the main drag. We hung out there for a few minutes and then went to Mexicala Rosa's for drinks. I had a couple of glasses of wine and Stacy had a HUGE frozen margarita. We left Claude and headed to the evening's literary events.

The evening started with a screening of the film Alden Nowlan: The Mysterious Naked Man. I really enjoyed the movie. It was funny, sad, real. I loved the footage of Alden himself. I wished I had known him like so many of the Fredericton literary crowd did. Brian Guns the director/ producer was there and spoke a little about the film. I had the opportunity to have breakfast with him the next morning because we stayed in the same hotel. That was pretty cool. To find out even more about the process, where the film is going, what's next and so on. After the film there were readings. Shirley Bear gave a spiritually touching reading in English and Maliseet. Her native language is so powerful, so beautiful. She could have read all evening and not said a word in English and I would have loved it. Her poems were very spiritual, about nature and ancient myths from her culture. She was one of my favourites from the entire weekend. Liliane Welch's poetry is more deliberate somehow. In her reading she enunciated every syllabel, drawing out every vowel, holding the consonants. I honestly couldn't tell you what her poems were about, because the reading was such an art itself. Stacy really disliked her reading, got on her nerves. But I found it very interesting, educational, the way the words sounded. I've never been as consciously aware of the sound of words as I was in that moment. I wanted to leave the auditorium, go home and read aloud everything I've ever written to see what it sounded like. Alan Cumyn read a chapter from his children's novel and made everyone in the audience laugh until they nearly peed their pants. In the chapter his main character, a little boy named Owen, falls in love with a girl in his class at Valentine's Day and a lot of really funny stuff happens as the kids exchange Valentine's in their decorated Kleenex boxes at their desks. The reading was great! Hilarious! And God did it ever take me back! lol He said when he reads that part to kids who are the age of the kids in the story you can hear a pin drop in the classroom . . . they don't think it's very funny, this Valentine and love stuff is pretty serious business for them. John Smith is the poet laureate for PEI. When he read his poetry I felt like I was in the presence of a great Shakespearan actor. He didn't need the microphone, his voice was so powerful and full. I met him at breakfast the next morning also and purchased one of his books which he signed for me. Kathleen Forsythe read last. She is Fred Cogswell's daughter and before he died they were working on a book together, she was interviewing him about the process of writing poetry, getting into his head as he wrote. She read some excerpts from the manuscript which will be published soon. It sounds like a fascinating book, something I'll definitely want to read. However, she kind of highjacked the evening . . . reading on and on for a very long time. It was kind of sad really, to see her working out her grief so publically like that. Some people were really pissed at her for doing that, but I didn't mind really. Most of what she talked about was interesting and she just buried her father that morning so I figured she deserved a little leeway.

After the readings, Stacy and I went to Dairy Queen for snacks and then back to our room to watch a dvd and pig out. We watched this really funny movie I had never really heard tell of before with Billy Bob Thornton, Patrick Swayze and Charlize Theron. It was really funny and I have no idea what it was called. Got to sleep quite late and then I had to get up pretty early Saturday morning because I was registered for the workshop with Alan Cumyn at 10 a.m. The workshop was at the Ice House (appropriately named because it was absolutely freezing). It's kind of funny actually. I've always heard about the Ice House and all the great work that has been created there and come to find out it's this tiny little one-room stone building like a shed (I had to duck to go in the door)with a big old desk that must certainly be a lot older than I am and is in no danger of being stolen because they must have built the building around it. There were about 10 of us in the group. It was kind of weird as workshops go . . . because we didn't actually write much. But it was a great workshop, a life-changing workshop for me actually. I would say Alan Cumyn has completely changed the course of my writing. He gave us a topic and we did a timed writing of 10 minutes. We didn't share what we'd written, it didn't matter much. I'm not sure even what his point of getting us to write was all about, but later on when he spoke about staying connected to your writing and how a half-hour to an hour of writing every day is the key to producing a novel or collection of short stories, I looked and saw how much I had written in that 10 minutes and suddenly it all clicked for me. I think it was just his really calm matter of fact manner, but in that moment I realised I am disconnected from my novel and all I need is to get tuned back in, spend a half-hour or an hour with it every day and the book will get done. I realised that when I'm connected the story is always working in the background and if I'm touching base with it for a few minutes every day, then it's always being written in my head. This was quite the realisation. Of course, I've been home a week and haven't acted on it, lol. But I'm going to. I can feel it.

For lunch we went to the James Joyce pub in the Lord Beaverbrook Hotel. (A bit pricey but okay if you like Irish stew and fish chowder, that sort of stuff). My friend Elizabeth read one of her short stories. It was one I had never read or heard before. She seemed a little nervous but totally pulled it off and did a great job. Eventually we all have to go there . . . the public reading in order to get your name out there . . . I love public speaking but something about reading my fiction knocks the wind out of me. It's really kind of weird. Elizabeth jokes that she is the exhibitionist in our group. She done good! And I liked the story a lot. Marilyn Lerch from Sackville read some of her poems and I had the opportunity to buy her book later and have her sign it. She's one of my favourites and has been for awhile. She's one of those feisty old broads, feminist, originally from Chicago. She doesn't pull any punches and I like that. She's funny as old hell too. She's got this great poem called The Great Toronto Garbage Strike of 2002 about the garbage strike when the Pope visited. It's fantastic! And when she reads it -- LOL! I loved it! When she mutters in that tough broad gravelly voice of hers, "Give 'em a raise for chrissake!" I fall to pieces. Kelly Cooper read fiction and really sucked me into her story. I can't remember whether she has a book or not, but if she does it will be one I'll pick up if I see it. Greg Cook read some of his poetry and I was excited to meet the man who wrote Alden Nowlan One Heart, One Way. Though I didn't get the chance to introduce myself. A surprising thing happened when Allan Cooper read. He's a poet from Alma and I have one of his books already. I don't know if it was the exhaustion, the starvation, the wine, being overwhelmed by being in a room filled with so many published authors and poets, or what was going on . . . but as he read a poem about the tides in Fundy I felt a lump form in my throat and my vision clouded. I looked away, I tried to think about other things, but it was no good. I sat there and cried.

That's the funny thing about these readings. Different people are moved by different things. I looked over at one point during Marilyn Lerch's reading and Dorinda was crying, wiping her eyes, sniffling. Stacy was moved to tears during Shirley Bear's reading the evening before. It's an interesting phenomena.

After lunch I ended up going to the panel discussion on Travis Lane's poetry. It was actually quite interesting because I didn't know much about her poetry before coming to the festival. Jeanette Lynes, Robert Gibbs, Lynn Davies, and Hannah Lane each gave speeches about her work and then the floor was opened to questions. I learned a lot and it was actually quite entertaining. Next year I won't be so quick to strike the panel discussions from my agenda. After that a bunch of us went for supper at a Greek restaurant where I had the absolute worse glass of red wine -- it must have been a pinot noir, because I'm not very fond of those. I need to remember to request the merlot, even though it usually costs more, it's well worth an extra dollar or so when faced with a crappy glass of wine.

After supper Stacy and I went shopping a bit at Wal-Mart and I bought a bunch of dvds. Just got back and it was time to go to the readings. Travis Lane, Jeanette Lynes, Geoffrey Cook, Jean Dohaney, and Robert Moore were on the schedule. Jeanette had been partying with Judy and Dorinda so she prefaced her reading by saying she had been adopted by the women of Miramichi and thanking the WFNB for inviting her because she was having such a great time. She was a lot of fun to hang out with. Travis Lane is such a gracious woman. She reminds me of my Grandmother on my father's side . . . like Grammie Underhill only with balls! LOL Not literally. I mean if Grammie Underhill were to say whatever was on her mind, let loose, not hold back at all for the sake of being polite or proper. Yeah, this was Travis Lane. I loved her! There are some people you meet and they're just instantly likeable, she's one of those. Geoffrey Cook is Greg Cook's son. Greg actually emceed the evening and was very proud to be introducing his son. Geoffrey just launched his first book of poetry the night before and he was so nervous to be at the Alden Nowlan festival reading with friends in the audience who drove all the way from Montreal just to hear him. He stumbled a couple of times and had to start over but I kind of liked that, liked that he was visibly trembling as he held the book, popping his p's in the microphone and fumbling over his words. It made him more human, more like me. I could relate. And his poems weren't bad either.

After the readings we went back to the hotel to get Stacy because we were supposed to be going out with Claude to the Taproom. But when we got there Stacy was sick in bed, so we just had a glass of wine and took a cab to the university bar in Alden Nowlan's house on campus where everyone from the reading was going to hang out. What a surreally awesome time! To be sitting in the living room at Windsor Castle surrounded by all these really great writers talking about books and writing and university politics and art and workshops and grants -- I loved it! I've read so much about Alden Nowlan, so much about his parties at Windsor Castle, and I know it's tacky beyond words that the grad students have turned his living room into a bar . . . but still, it's kind of like I've had the Alden Nowlan experience I've always read about. Weird.

Throughout the weekend and at Windsor Castle, I got to talk a lot to my friend that I met at the AGM in April, Joe Blades from Broken Jaw Press. He's one of my favourite people, always doing something interesting, and he's very peaceful, has kind of a Zen-like demeanour that rubs off and makes you feel all peaceful too. Plus, he's got this really dry wit that I appreciate. I could listen to him talk for hours -- Hey, I think I have listened to him talk for hours, lol. He has a new book out and I bought it, got him to sign it. His poetry is really interesting, there are a lot of layers to peel away. I like that. The Canadian Embassy has invited him to big Book Fair overseas -- Helsinki? No, Prague? I forget where exactly. Anyway, he's a keynote speaker or something, so that's a pretty big deal. He seemed really excited about it and I'm hoping he'll pop off a note to me about it so I can include it in the next WFNB newsletter.

I was severely hung over on the Sunday but that didn't stop Stacy and I from having a full day in Fredericton. We checked out and headed downtown to Cora's for breakfast. There was some sort of a marathon or something going on and the streets were blocked off so we had to park way to hell and back and walk, then the line-up was practically out on the street. By the time we got food I was near dead, but the food was worth it. YUMMY!!! We both got the waffles with carmel apples and English cream. Wow! It was scrum. No doubt about it, Cora's is the place to go for breakfast. After breakfast we hit the mall and hit it hard. I spent it all! Mostly Christmas shopping though, so that was good. Good to get it out of the way, rather than wait until the week before like I always do. Maybe now that the kids presents aren't going to suck my pay cheque dry in December, I'll even be able to buy some other people something, like Mom and Dad. They'd be thrilled! All in all, I didn't too badly in the spending department for the weekend. Didn't get too many books or dvds. That's always a concern, that I'll spend hundreds of dollars on books and lately dvds.

This weekend I was supposed to go to a staff party at the Pond's Resort in Ludlow but I threw out my back late last week and had to pass. So, now I start saving for my next excursion -- Magie Dominic's reading, workshop and installation of the Gown of Stillness in Moncton in December. I think Jen and Jason are going to go to that with me. It'll be nice to see Ed and Elaine from the Attic Owl again, they're the organisers behind that event. Great for last minute Christmas shopping too.

Well, that's it, now you're up to date.

Mood: having a big old fat day
Drinking: Nothing, drier than a wooden god
Listening To: Andrea Bocelli, La Paterno Mano
Hair: tied up and stringy